


Lost in Thought

by Maybeanartist02



Category: Last Legacy (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Seems angsty, but i promise its fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybeanartist02/pseuds/Maybeanartist02
Summary: Anne is missing in action, and Felix gets worried.
Relationships: Felix (Last Legacy | Fictif)/Original Female Character(s), Felix/Player | Cosplayer (Last Legacy | Fictif)
Kudos: 13





	Lost in Thought

**_  
_**

Felix has combed the entire castle (or, well, the few parts he’d showed to her) in search of the barista he was supposed to be helping get back home. Anne had seemingly disappeared from the castle, and as he purses his lips, brows drawn together with his arms crossed, standing in the guest room she’s staying in, he catches sight of her belongings, scattered on the desk.

Cautious, he walks over to inspect the weird gathering of things.

Make up. Not surprising, she was at some sort of costume party before being dropped here, after all.

A few flyers, a lanyard, keys, a weird, black box thing.

And…a book.

Two, actually. One is made of leather, with the word “sketchbook” engraved on it, under an equally skillfully engraved tree. The other is a colorfully painted paper cover, watercolors stretching over it. into the paint “Journal. Stay back, sluts” is etched.

He snorts, reaching for the sketchbook, and opening it. the first page is littered with drawings, and a messy script that reads “Last Legacy I. Part 2 coming soon!!” under the writing are drawings of people, some of which Felix has never seen in person before. However, he now knows she wasn’t lying when she said his world was a game universe in hers, judging by the drawing of his father and his papa.

They both look young—very, very young in fact—and Escell looks much kinder, just an air of sketchiness surrounding him. When his gaze falls to the bottom of the drawing of Escell, he snorts. In a much newer looking pen, she’d added:

“Rat bastard. We need a cat.” 

He flips through the pages, finding mostly sketches for the costume she wore, amidst some doodles of characters, herself, and what Felix assumes is her family, judging by the photo she clipped to the page with a paperclip.

And then he flips a page, and is surprised by what he finds.

A drawing, of him, Anisa, and Sage, surprisingly accurate considering she must’ve done it when none of them were looking, next to a doodle of the key he’d given her. under each of their portraits, she’d written notes. The older ones seemed to be written in blue, the newer in black.

“Anisa. Kind, very sweet. I assume she likes tea. Seems kinda underpaid. Same boat, sister. Also;;; that HAIR oh my GOD. Maybe part cat?????? somewhere??? The eyes and whisker on cheeks ?”

He snorts, finding her to be more honest in her writing.

“Sage. Leaves,,,an impression, for sure. Dirty humor, and I hate that I have the same type of humor. Kind of looks like the Witcher. I feel judged,,,,constantly. I want to be his friend, tho, not sure if I could handle all that casual flirting ORZ.”

He hums, a strange tugging at his chest causing him to pout as he looks over the portrait of him.

“Felix (Iskandar) Escellun. Necromancer (ANOTHER ONE!!)!! Very dramatic, the sarcasm is great. Son of Escell,, tho doesn’t seem happy about it. kissed my hand when we first met and im still not over it. have I mentioned cute?? Hair looks perpetually messy, and hard same. Necklaces,,,pretty. The only one who could pass fashionably on earth.”

He finds himself blushing, unable to put into words how the observation makes him feel. Then, in black under it, she’s added:

“I’m glad looks are the only thing hes inherited from his dad to be honest. Felix can get angry too ^^ he has a really pretty smile too. … he’s the one who cut off his family, not the other way around, which makes me happy for him, but…Escell’s view on family is very wrong.

Living in your grief is bad, but suppressing it is just as bad.

I hope I get to see Felix smile more, and I hope I can get Escell to stop pestering him. He deserves the freedom to come and go as he pleases, and see the parts of his family that he misses.

I want to help Felix.”

He reaches the end of the page, a sinking feeling settling into his heart.

She worries so much, but he wonders if anyone knows that. He himself saw her as a bright and optimistic person, sunny and positive, always so passionate and hopeful. The only time she seemed down was when a week had passed, and she still could not summon her magic.

He flips the page, and his heart sinks.

She drew herself, surrounded by words that make his heart clench painfully.

_Boring. Gloomy. Quiet. Ugly. Loner. Solo forever. Weirdo. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Lazy, lazy, lazy. Failure, Failure._

_All alone- alone, alone, alone._

_No one cares. No one. I’m all alone. Everyone leaves, gone forever._

He can make out dried tears in the corner of the page, and he scoffs.

“you fool,” he huffs, “you’re not supposed to feel like this.”

He flips back to where she drew the key, and the portraits, and realizes something.

She left all her things here, and the desk looks abandoned in a way that tells him it wasn’t planned, and done in a hurry. Glancing to the door, he hums.

There’s one place he hasn’t checked yet.

He opens a portal, thinking of how excited she looked when she saw his private little hideout. How fascinated she was, how she eased Stella into his arms—

_Her_ , standing in his space, looking quite at home.

He walks through, and ends up right outside the study.

He pauses, straining to hear for a second—

He can’t hear anything, not even Stella purring.

He takes a deep breath, before opening the door slowly.

He steps in, and the first thing he registers in the cloak over the back of the couch, and Stella nestled atop of it. (the implications of Stella’s sleeping don’t escape him, and he hates how quickly Anne’s managed to worm her way into his heart.)

Then he spots her, sitting by the window, knees to her chest, a book in her lap. Her gaze is on the page, but the look in her eyes tells him she’s not reading. 

“Here you are,” he sighs, and her head whips around to look at him as we walks over, “I was looking for you. Do you mind leaving a notice next time?”

Her lips twitch, and she purses her lips in an attempt to hide her smile, “I’m sorry, I just assumed you’d rather I not divulge the existence of your secret hideout, Mr. Necromancer.”

He rolls his eyes, “can you not phrase it in a vague enough way? Are thou too obvious for that, my dearest Barista?”

She freezes, before forcing out a strained laugh, “Sorry, sorry. It slipped my mind.”

Felix eyes the space by her feet, silently asking for permission to sit. She nods. He sits down.

“What are you reading?” he asks, head tilted to the side.

“uh …magic. _stuff_.”

Felix quirks a brow. “All the books here are about magic.”

Anne presses her lips together. “Yeup,” she says, popping the ‘p’, “that. That is true!”

Felix rolls his eyes, then pushes the book up with his finger, revealing the title to him.

“Healing?” he reads, “Healing…you want to heal?”

Anne, who is now flustered and hiding within the books’ pages, nods.

“I feel drawn to it,” she explains, quietly, “and…it feels like I’ll be able to help us a lot with it! Since…since you’re not a healer.”

Felix opens his mouth—he wants to tell her to focus on things to protect her—but she’s faster.

“And I’ve been thinking,” she muses, “I want to be more…independent! So I’m also looking at defense spells! And offensive! I want to learn all that I can, and be helpful!”

Felix’s eyes widen, and he blinks.

“You don’t have to do all this stuff on your own,” Anne huffs, “I’m here to help you, too!”

Felix hums, averting his gaze. “…I suppose.”

Anne reaches out to argue as he stands, but then he looks at her, and she withdraws her hand.

“I’m going out to gather ingredients for a ward,” he holds out a hand to her, “care to join, Barista?”

Anne blinks, then grins, closing the book and depositing it on the window sill before she takes his hand and lets him pull her up, and out of the study.

His hand is cooler than most, but comforting nonetheless.

She doesn’t let go until they reach the front door, and regrets it as soon as she does, despite the prominent flush darkening her cheeks.


End file.
